Forgotten History
by Lionpuppeh
Summary: War can incite varied reactions from different people. Small collection of attempted drabbles. Some E/C and R/C. Schumacher Phantom.
1. 1: Erik: Pensive

_A/N: __So, the reason for this story actually lies in my background. I studied (and still do, I guess), history. I'm always reading up on various periods of history. I use Gerik ("the Gerry Phantom"), as my chosen phantom to write about. Hollywood is notorious for either bungling up history, or skipping over it completely. If they pay attention to history, it's to make elaborate (and admittedly gorgeous) period costumes. The Schumacher movie takes place in 1870 - the same year as the Franco-Prussian War. Look it up on Wiki for more info. But here's a fun fact: the end result of that war was the birth of Germany. Beforehand it was a loose confederation of about 39 smaller states. I've always wanted to write the Franco-Prussian War into a Phantom phic, and now here's my chance. =)_

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><p><span>Disclaimer: <span>_The Phantom I use in my stories is the Phantom of Andrew Lloyd Webber, with Joel Schumacher's re-interpretation (otherwise known as the "Gerry Phantom."). Not a single thing in this story is owned by me._

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><p><span>Chapter 1: Erik: Pensive<span>

August 1870

Erik couldn't believe his luck.

Not five months ago, he was a fugitive wanted for murder. He was wandering the sewers of Paris because he was homeless at his own hands, getting sicker by the day, and seriously contemplating on eating rats. Now however, he was healthy, reasonably well disguised, and more importantly, on a train that would take him far, far away from Paris.

The one he had to thank for this stroke of luck was Antoinette Giry. She had found Erik in the sewers of Paris two days after the infamous fire. Despite her palpable anger, Antoinette took him into a temporary abode she was living in with Meg, and they both nursed him back to health. Antoinette helped him recover some of his finances, obtain a new black mask, and then she sent him on the train to Marseilles.

_"Your foolish actions have left Meg and I homeless. I can get you out of the city. But with this war, there is nothing else I can do to help you. I may be able to meet you in Marseilles, but do not count on anything, understand?"_

He still remembered Antoinette's weary, yet steely gaze and her sharp voice when she said those words to him. Her words didn't hurt him as much as he thought they might; Christine had made him numb. But the war...

Erik stifled a laugh. He knew that the city gendarmes probably didn't care if he stayed in the city because of the war. But it was stupid to take any chances. The irony didn't escape him. In fact, it made him pensive. _If I joined the army, would my sins be absolved?_ he wondered. _If killing is monstrous,_ he thought, _then the army is full of devils and monsters...like me._

It was definitely something to think on. Any thought that made him forget Christine, however temporarily, was an acceptable one.

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><p><em><span>AN: __Like the summary said, these are failed attempts at drabbles. A drabble is technically a piece that's 100 words. The word count for this chapter is at about 299. Small additions would push it up to under 310, I think. XDD I posted it the way it was because I liked it, and I hope someone else does as well. This is also not beta'ed for the same reasons as before: I wanted to get it out to establish a feeling of accomplishment. If you like, then review!_


	2. 2: Antoinette: Anger

_A/N:__ So, here's the next chapter. I recently got inspiration to expand this collection a little bit, but it's more to make my own interpretation of resolving what happened after the story ended when Erik escaped. It might mean going beyond the Franco-Prussian War. I jotted the ideas down that I wanted to write about, but I'm not quite sure how to proceed. If anyone is curious, there's going to be less than ten chapters to this. That's one thing I'm very positive about. If one takes a look at what I have written so far in my profile, they can see I'm not very experienced in writing multi-chapter fics. XDD I'm trying to build from the ground up, so to speak._

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><p><span>Disclaimer: <span>_The Phantom I use in my stories is the Phantom of Andrew Lloyd Webber, with Joel Schumacher's re-interpretation (otherwise known as the "Gerry Phantom."). Not a single thing in this story is owned by me. _

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><p><span>Chapter 2: Antoinette: Anger<span>

September 1870

Antoinette was being introduced to a new definition of homelessness, and it was steadily making her incredibly angry.

The war was not going well for the French. The Prussians were skilled, and had advanced into the country. It had been estimated that the Prussian forces would be at the front steps of Paris within a week.

What had caused the war? As far as Antoinette knew, it was deliberately provoked by some figure in Prussia that wanted to unite it with surrounding kingdoms to form a new nation. The idea of deliberately starting a war to create a new country sounded utterly _asinine _in her mind.

_The man can have his new nation,_ Antoinette thought angrily. _Why provoke France? _She was already out of a job and a home thanks to Erik, and now Antoinette and Meg were risking death if they stayed in Paris. They had to leave, but the funds in the bank were starting to run low. War had spiked the price of numerous necessities.

Antoinette had to swallow her pride and accept money from relatives in Marseilles. They were willing to house her and Meg until they could find work and a home of their own. Antoinette had too much pride and worry for Meg to stoop as low as selling their bodies for money.

However, she was willing to risk severing connections with Erik for an unidentified period of time. He had crossed the line the moment he had abducted Christine from the stage during _Don Juan_ and caused the chandelier to fall. Could she have stopped him? She was unsure. But the night she had lost her home was the same night she knew her old friend had descended to places far out of her reach. She needed to make sure that Meg and herself were safe again before she even _considered_ trying to find Erik. Antoinette had a feeling that her anger at him would fizzle out eventually _(to her own shame)_. She knew that was why she made sure that he would be in the same city as her and Meg.

_And if I don't find him, he will surely find me_, she realized. Antoinette was sure of that.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she became aware of a warm, hard object on her shoulder. It was Meg. She had fallen asleep in the seat next to her. Antoinette softened and placed an arm around her daughter, looking out the window of their train as the French countryside zoomed past them. She sighed and tried to relax as Meg snoozed in her arms. They were due to arrive at Marseilles by nightfall.

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><p><em><span>AN:__ 1st Chancellor of Germany Otto Von Bismark was said to have believed that the only way to get Germany to unify was to cause a war with France. He goaded the country into war - anyone interested in details can get them on wiki. If I remember correctly, one of his methods was to send a telegram that stated that the Prussian king had treated a group of French envoys very poorly during a visit. I raised my eyebrow over that one myself. XD_

_I wasn't entirely satisfied with this chapter, so I did try and tweak it a bit. I'm pretty sure that bumped the word count to roughly 400 if anyone was interested in knowing. As far as Antoinette's reaction to the events of Don Juan...I thought it would be realistic. Back in 1870s France, there weren't very many options for a woman. Antoinette's character struck me as someone who was just as practical and proud as she was compassionate.__The Opera burning down and the war would have made Antoinette very quickly readjust her priorities. Once she knew that Erik was physically healthy, he would have had to drop to the bottom of the list of her priorities __**very**__ quickly, and her and Meg's health and safety would have been at the top._

_ If you have thoughts on any of this, feel free to drop a review! The next chapter will be Raoul.  
><em>


	3. 3: Raoul: Detached

_A/N:__ This is where you'll start to see both Raoul/Christine, and Erik/Christine. This has more Raoul/Christine. Here's chapter three._

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><p><span>Disclaimer: <span>_The Phantom I use in my stories is the Phantom of Andrew Lloyd Webber, with Joel Schumacher's re-interpretation (otherwise known as the "Gerry Phantom."). Not a single thing in this story is owned by me._

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><p><span>Chapter 3: Raoul: Detached<span>

October 1870

_Earlier today, General de Bellemare attacked Prussian forces at Le Bourget. They were unsuccessful, and Prussian forces retook the city and captured 1,200 French soldiers..._

Raoul put down the telegram and sighed. He usually enjoyed the family connections the de Chagnys had to the French armed forces. It enabled them to get up-to-date telegrams on the siege in Paris. Lately however, Raoul had been feeling detached at what the telegrams held for him and his family.

He blamed it on the Phantom of the Opera. Raoul didn't understand why he should pay attention to a losing siege when he was waking up in the middle of the night constantly from nightmares, clutching his throat and covered in his own sweat. If he wasn't waking up from a nightmare, then he was waking up to his fiancée's screams and stumbling across the hallway of the family mansion, holding _her _sweat drenched body until the sobs that wracked her subsided and she fell asleep.

_That face..._it had been seven months since that night. Yet neither Christine nor Raoul had managed to go more than three nights straight without waking up to see that sneering, twisted, burned, and decayed visage fading from their subconscious. _When will Christine and I stop seeing him every time we close our eyes?_ Raoul wondered as he looked out the window of the study where he was reading the telegraph. He didn't know. Yet, it was a bit of a relief to be holed up in the de Chagny mansion. The more days that passed, the more comfortable Raoul felt in thinking that the Phantom was, in fact, not going to hunt down him and Christine. Maybe he was trapped in Paris.

_No, that's cruel, _Raoul chastised himself. _Maybe Madame Giry found him and shipped him to the far side of the country, away from Christine and I._ He could only hope. In the meantime, Raoul found himself becoming detached at the subject of the siege. He was even becoming detached over the entire war.

_I blame you Phantom, _Raoul thought angrily. He could only hope he wouldn't become detached about anything else. Christine needed him to chase away her own nightmares.

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><p><em><span>AN: __The events mentioned in the telegram refer to the French General Carey de Bellemare attacking the Prussian guard at Le Bourget (a suburb in northern Paris), without orders. De Bellemare took the town back from the Prussians. Despite a lack of interest in the area, the Prussians were ordered to retake Le Bourget, and they did. All of this happened at the end of October of 1870, (October 29th). Paris was in the middle of suffering from a Prussian blockade during that time. Anyone curious about the details can go to wiki and type in "The Siege of Paris."_

_The next chapter will be Christine. Comments (__**especially**__ on anything I may have missed as I edited) are greatly appreciated. _


	4. 4: Christine: Worry

_A/N: __I'd like to make a profuse apology to any anonymous people out there (and those who don't always want to log in to make a review). It appears that I had the anonymous reviews ability disabled on my account. I feel bad, especially to anyone that has an account that tends to be too lazy about logging in to leave a review. Why? I'm one of those people - I leave reviews on stories and don't bother logging in __**all of the time**__. My god, I feel like such an idiot right now._

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><p><span>Disclaimer: <span>_The Phantom I use in my stories is the Phantom of Andrew Lloyd Webber, with Joel Schumacher's re-interpretation (otherwise known as the "Gerry Phantom."). Not a single thing in this story is owned by me._

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><p><span>Chapter 4: Christine: Worry<span>

November 1870:

Christine had always been a worrywart. She had worried when her father was stretching himself too thin. She had worried if she was going to be liked at the Opera Populaire upon moving in. She had worried when Madame Giry's leg injury seemed to be bothering her more than usual, and she had vocalized to her Angel of Music that spending time in cold, dark and damp places wasn't healthy for him.

As she grew older, her worries changed. She worried over her first leading performance, and if Raoul really was waiting for her to go to dinner with him afterward. Her worries became darker very quickly however, with the murder of Joseph Bouquet.

_When will he kill again? _

_He'll be so angry when he finds out I'm engaged to Raoul, I know it. What will happen when he **does** find out? _

_Will catching him in the middle of 'Don Juan' really work?_

_Is he going to make it out of the Opera House alive? Will Raoul and I even survive?_

Then there was the most recent worry of hers: _Has he made it out of Paris alive? _The well being of Madame Giry and Meg also plagued her thoughts until she received a courier that both women were safe with relatives in Marseilles. That made her relax tremendously.

The war worried her in general. All of those lives lost. All of those fathers, brothers, fiancés and husbands that might never come home. The daughters, sisters, and wives who were fretting at home. Not all of them would be reunited with each other. It was much, _much _worse in Paris. The siege was on its second month and the food supply in the city was running dangerously low. She was aware that civilian casualties were starting to mount.

"My poor angel," she whispered to herself, sinking on her bed in the manor of her future in-laws. Even though the charade was long gone, Christine still referred to the disfigured man that inhabited the underground caverns of the opera house by what she had called him for a full decade. She was dressed in violet, with Madame Giry's letter clutched in her hand. The trees outside were threadbare. Raoul wouldn't want her to fret. He would be disturbed if he knew just how much she worried over the Phantom.

_"He killed innocents and endangered you in the most severe of manners." _Raoul had said to her at one point. _"That is absolutely unforgivable."_

To a point, Christine agreed. Yet, there was a part of her that made sure his scarred and twisted face with those sad, sad eyes were permanently ingrained in her mind's eye. It was that part of Christine that made her stop and think.

So, she continued to worry. She worried about the innocent soldiers, the innocent lives in danger in Paris, and of the fate of the Phantom of the Opera.

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><p><em><span>AN: __The Siege of Paris lasted from September of 1870 to January of 1871. And yes, the people that lived in the city did starve from a dwindling supply of food._

_I believe that Christine did love Erik, but not in the way that he would have liked. I also believe that Christine loved Raoul, but would have been at her happiest if she had both men in her life. Sadly for her, that's impossible._

_The last chapter will be Meg. There are two lingering scenarios floating around in my head left, but I don't think that I'll be able to get the inspiration to put them on paper. I'll be wandering elsewhere after this; I just don't know where._


	5. 5: Meg: Perseverance

Disclaimer: _The Phantom I use in my stories is the Phantom of Andrew Lloyd Webber, with Joel Schumacher's re-interpretation (otherwise known as the "Gerry Phantom."). Not a single thing in this story is owned by me._

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><p><span>Chapter 5: Meg: Perseverance:<span>

December 1870:

Snow rarely fell in Marseilles, but today it did. Meg Giry didn't mind. She was tucked away in a warm corner of a cheap cafe, slowly scratching away at her to-do list. She had just purchased some gift-wrap materials for the presents that were waiting her attention at her uncle's home. Meg had little to work with this year; the Phantom's fire had taken much away from her and her mother. But Meg had always prided herself on being resourceful. Today, she was in good spirits. She knew that their fortunes were about to change for the better. She glanced down at the list of tasks she had made for the day. There was only one thing left to do:

_-Tell Maman about the jobs I found for us._

Meg grinned at what she had just scratched out with her worn pencil. While her mother worked to get the two of them settled, Meg had befriended Elise, a ballerina at the Marseilles Opera House. One thing led to another as Meg stayed persistent and before she knew it, Meg was trying out for the opera's ballet corps. She got in, and now she was to refresh herself on the routine for _Aida_, which was to open in February. Meg was to start practice a week after the New Year. While the dormitories weren't open for her yet, there was a space available for the next season. She had gotten this position yesterday.

The same day she was accepted into the corps, Meg stumbled upon a goldmine of information. The ballet instructor was about to retire. On top of that, the ballet instructor had _heard _of her mother and how well she had taught the corps in Paris. She wanted her mother to write back to the retiring instructor (the woman had given Meg her address), and to come in for an interview on the first of the New Year. The ballet instructor was interested in leaving as soon as possible.

Meg wasn't sure why she kept her persistent job-hunting a secret from her mother. She did tell her of Elise, but that was it. Perhaps it was because they were both still recovering from the recent losses they had suffered.

Meg had to admit she had initially been loath to check out the Marseilles Opera House. She feared that it would bring back memories that both her and her mother would rather forget. She frowned for a moment as she remembered helping her mother house and care for the ill Phantom. A stagehand they knew that escaped the fire had run into them, and directed them to some temporary rooms near his flat. It was above a brothel.

The irony had not been lost on Meg. Vividly, she remembered one night when Erik had mistaken her for an angel while he was in the midst of a fever. At the exact same time, she could hear an employer downstairs serving a client. Those months had scared her. She knew that if something went wrong, Meg might have had to look into working at a brothel.

She shuddered at the idea. That thought and the war must have been what made her persistent in looking for a respectable job. She would have settled for something that would have given her a chance to marry well. Doing so would definitely give her mother some sanity in knowing that she was well provided for as an adult.

_Persistence has to count for something in hard times like these, right? _Meg wondered as she left the coffee shop. Meg did pity Erik greatly. She also worried for Christine, even though she knew she was safe. However, she didn't let her worry overtake her, and followed her mother's actions by focusing on what lay ahead of them. After all, Meg had just managed to get herself a job and an offer for her mother. She knew a decent place to live could soon follow. This thought sustained Meg as she walked down the city streets and continued her errands.

Meg just had to rely on a little bit of luck and continue to persevere. And in the end, her and her mother would continue to recover from the events of the past year. Things just _had _to get better. She knew they would.

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><p><em>- This is the last chapter. I'm a bit unsure about it, but I wanted to end the whole thing on a hopeful note. I would have added in Meg following Erik (because it looked like she did in the movie, to my memory), but I was trying to put myself on a word limit when I wrote this. Although I think with this chapter, I was going for a page limit in my notebook more than anything. I don't have much to say about any historical bits, except that Marseilles does have an Opera House. Given the restrictions on women in Victorian society, I unfortunately have serious doubts that Meg would have been able to go shopping on her own (she might have been accompanied by a male). -_-. Victorian society was absolutely horrible like that to women. I suppose this scenario is a case of historical creative license.<em>


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